


L is For The Way You Look At Me

by orphan_account



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Roxas admiring Sora, post kh3, them being cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 14:57:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18552085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “What are you thinking about?” Sora asks lazily. He starts running his hand through Roxas’ hair gently, soothingly, as if trying to coax out every single thought Roxas ever had.“You. The stars.” It comes out so softly, so earnest, Sora can’t help but smile.“What about me and the stars?”





	L is For The Way You Look At Me

Roxas was obsessed with the easy way Sora laughed. The sound rolled out of his mouth like thunder rolling through a storm. Even though his laugh was as beautiful as a storm, it was as soft as the sound of rain hitting the pavement. 

He was obsessed with the way Sora looked in the moonlight while they lied next to each other; a certain kind of paleness poured in from the closed blinds, bathing them both in shadows and yet somehow still casting just enough light to illuminate Sora, forever his light in the darkness. He loved the way Sora’s face feels in his hand and the way his eyes never fail to light up when they make eye contact as if, for the split second they’re not lost in each other’s eyes, Sora has forgotten about him and then gets to discover him all over again.

“Soft.” Roxas mumbles as he cups Sora’s face. He was looking up at him, his head resting on Sora’s shoulder. 

Sora laughs, his lips stretching so incredibly far up his face and then his mouth parts just slightly, letting the velvety sound of his laugh erupt out of him. His laugh was like a volcano, always threatening to blow and when it does, there’s no stopping the force behind it. 

“It’s called moisturizer. Being out in the sun all the time is bad for the complexation, you know.” 

“I don’t have to worry about that I’m like three.” 

And when Sora chuckles this time it’s soft, quiet, like leaves hitting the pavement in the calm of a fall morning. 

Sora takes a deep breath, “Ah, I was young once.” He throws his arm over his eyes to add to his dramatics. Slowly, he raises his arm up so he can peak his eye out at Roxas to see his reaction and then quickly covers his eye back up, chuckling. 

Roxas was obsessed with making Sora laugh. It came easy to him, almost as if he was created specifically to make Sora’s eyes sparkle like the ocean being hit with the afternoon sun. He thought that if had only one minute left on Earth he’d crack a joke just to see Sora burst out laughing one last time; that would put him at peace. 

“Oh, shut up.” Roxas says and this time it’s him laughing at Sora; he hopes it’s as soft and gentle as the waves in low tide. 

Sora moves slowly, removing his arm from his face and then places his hand on Roxas’ chin, leaning in, placing the softest kiss on his lips. 

Roxas loved the way Sora kissed him. He loved the feeling of Sora’s lips on his because every time there was a brush of their lips, Roxas’ brain lit on fire—which blazed down into his soul—so he would often go out of his way to sneak a kiss, just to remember how Sora’s lips felt, to feel that fire again. It’s as if every time Sora kissed him, the world fell away only for them to rebuild it over and over, together. 

Roxas couldn’t stop himself from looking at Sora like he personally hung every star in the night sky. It seemed that Sora hated the darkness of the night so much he bent the light to his will and then hung it up, leaving it to forever glow in the vastness of the sky. 

“What are you thinking about?” Sora asks lazily. He starts running his hand through Roxas’ hair gently, soothingly, as if trying to coax out every single thought Roxas ever had.

“You. The stars.” It comes out so softly, so earnest, Sora can’t help but smile. He breathes out a little and Roxas wonders if that was supposed to be a laugh.

“What about me and the stars?”

“It’s like,” Roxas runs his hand up Sora’s chest, letting his hand rest over his heart, “you’re made of the stars that you personally hung in the sky and, somehow, I’m lucky enough to lie here in your glow every night.”

“Being a star sounds very lonely. I much prefer being here with you.” 

Sora was: a storm, the rain hitting the pavement, a volcano, the ocean, the stars in the sky, his light in the darkness, the love of his life. Most importantly, Sora was human and Roxas wouldn’t change a thing.


End file.
